we are all just Soldiers
by DemonsPain88
Summary: They were tossed together by orders, they came together through time, and they became a family by necessity. A story of a Blu Spy who learns the advantages of friendship, and the price of loyalty. Alternate reality. ps: these are OC-ish
1. Prologue

Before the Beginning

I had been called many things before: assassin, two faced snake, backstabber, schemer, the man with a plan...so how had it come to this...

The world had just finished with the Second Great War, and now it was falling over itself to start a third. First Australia had split off from the United Kingdom in an attempt to keep its wealth. Then Canada had uncovered its own deposits of Australium. The Arms race between the United states and Russia got heated and then when Canada had tried to close it's borders to the sudden influx of immigrants, Russia had used the chaos to try and invade only to be stopped by the natural border of the Rockies. America had decided to help out when Cuba and Mexico had started up to nibble at their borders. The two governments of Canada and the United States had met and decided that guerrilla units would be best employed across the map.

I snorted in contempt as I read the newspapers. How were they going to do that, I wondered vaguely. They'd need people, people who had worked both in groups and as individuals ..not easy to find.

"hey Jetón*! You've got company! Hands where we can see them politico."

I blinked up at the guard shouting at me through the bars of my cell. I couldn't have company. As a suspected informant and dangerous criminal I wasn't supposed to be allowed interaction with anyone outside of the prison guards themselves for at least another year. Folding my newspaper and putting it on the bench that served as both my bench and desk I stood and held up my hands and head height. We're they so bored that they were tricking me?

However when I was allowed to slowly step out of my cell I was put in cuffs, hands in front. Also unusual , the guards knew full well that such poor precautions wouldn't do anything against any decision I had to kill them. My curiosity was certainly piqued as I was poked forward along the hall, past the overcrowded central cell stations and into the front area; the closest I had been to the exterior of this hell hole in five years. They stopped me in front of an unlabelled door, unlocking it and thrusting me into a cold metal chair in front of an equally cold metal table. Before I could move, they cuffed my feet to the legs of the chair, tightly. They left. I blinked in surprise, if it were for interrogation at least one of hem should have stayed, no? Something was off...

I glanced up, two air ducts...Not an attempt suffocate me...poison gas perhaps? Not a pleasant thought.. A possibility though.

The door behind me opened and I breathed in tightly , preparing to meet my interrogator. I blinked, she was a rather petite woman, not that that really mattered. I had learned rather early in my career that small unassuming women were often the most dangerous – like their own branch of a napoleon complexes. She sat across from me, a file on hand and opened it to the first page.

"Good evening, Mr Renard. My name is Miss Pauling and I'm here to make you an offer." Right to the point then. Quite a pleasant change from the double lawyer talk that I had been expecting.

"I zee" I nodded, this was all the encouragement she needed it seemed as she launched full force into a likely we'll rehearsed speech. "as you may know, the Canadian American Alliance is facing the threat of communism on two fronts now that Cuba and Mexico have joined in alliance with the USER. After the European war front our military is in desperate need of volunteers and troops." I nodded, hiding a laugh, volunteers was it...is that what they were calling snatching up any able bodied man that looked like they could hold a gun?

"we can get you out of here" that made me focus sharply on her, straightening up in the chair.

"can you indeed?" I acted casual, but inside my heart was racing. This could be his ticket out of Costa Rica. .if not he'd likely die in this hell hole...not many options..and not odds he liked.

"verry well"

...

*Jetón - liar, costa rican slang

I'll write more unless people have objections to my writing style.


	2. Those who Begin

((sorry, dont know why it keeps re-coding itself. Thank you to KHGiggle for pointing it out!))

The Beginning

Chapter 2

I heard voices arguing nearby. That's the only way I knew I was awake. Opening my eyes took some effort, the sleeping drugs still fighting in my system. I didn't remember leaving the facility...when had they...?

A rough hand near my heavily bandaged face quickly brought my attention into focus. I grabbed the offending appendage and glared out at its owner, a black man with an oblong face grinned down at me, white teeth flashing on his deep umber face, completely unconcerned with the stormy grey eyes glaring up at him.

"Well hey there, fella. Gud ta see ya 'wake" said the man in a heavy Southern accent.

I blinked and released his arm, rubbing it he stood and, brushing off his grey jumpsuit, offered me a hand. I paused and took it, unwilling to accept such a free gesture after the years in the Costa Rican prison where a handshake was almost unheard of. He helped me up and I dusted myself off as well, looking around as I did. I was in a small infirmary it seemed, the bed across had the curtains drawn - someone else who had yet to wake up, perhaps? I glanced at the small operating table nearby and shuddered, I hated doctors and hospital surroundings...they asked questions and got under ones skin - literally - poking and prodding with bits of metal that looked like they came from a torture chamber...I would know...

"Y'all cummin 'r wha'?" I jerked my head up and followed the tall man out the door and into a short hall that led into a larger space. It looked like the inside of a warehouse - a few metal folding tables and chairs were set up as the rooms only decoration. These were filled with a range of humanity that stretched the gamut; at one table two giants were arm wrestling, egged on by three burly soldiers in uniform. Another giant was talking to tiny older man and cinnamon coloured man, all three smoking pipes. Others gathered and talked or shouted in smaller groups, accents from all over the states clashed in my ears.

"'Ey, Claiyde, that there wunnuv're new pals?" called out a thin man in a Cattleman hat, he stood smoking a cig next to a dark skinned man in a grey pork pie. This quickly brought everyone's attention onto me, I cringed inside. A few more people drifted over with the cowboy.

"So wha's ya name pally?" demanded a high Wisconsin accent, good lord the boy was way to young to be a soldier! was the draft board really so desperate? Apparently so, because two more of the same age came over, still arguing loudly until pork pie shushed them.

"Felix" I said shortly, uncomfortable with being surrounded by such rambunctious comradery.

"Well ah'm Stanley Davis, tha's Curtis, Jimmy, Ah'skar, Chess'er, Rahmon' Clahd -" the boy listed off everyone, pointing to each in turn, mangling the names with his accent which was, in turn, laughed off.

"Jus' wuss' yer axxen' anyhaow, pard'ner?" asked the cowboy, Chester I reminded myself.

"I am French" I explained, when a bellow from behind me made me jump.

"FRENCH? FRENCH?! THERE'S NO ROOM FOR SOME PRANCING PANSY SISSY FRENCHMAN IN THIS UNIT! WE ARE NOT THE EUROPEAN UNION HERE, SON!" I turned to face a man almost two feet shorter than me, although he made up for height with width, being twice as wide and ten times as loud...make that twenty times I thought sourly as he kept up the shouting match with himself.

"WHY ARE YOU ON THIS SIDE OF THE ATLANTIC ANYWAYS, FROG? OR HAVE YOU RUN FROM THE RUSSIANS LIKE YOU DID WITH THE GERMANS?! HOPING FOR GOOD AMERICAN BOYS TO DIG YOUR ASSES OUT OF THE SHIT AGAIN - !"

"'Sarge! tha's enough o' tha'" Clyde moved between the red faced soldier and myself...a good thing too...decking a fellow soldier - wait 'Sarge'? as in 'Sargent'?! whoever he was , he rounded on my defender like a rabid dog.

"THAT SO, ARKENSAWS? BETWEEN HIM, MISTER MAFIA, MOOSE AND THE DOCTOR WE MIGHT AS WELL OPEN AN EMBASSY!"

"come now, we're all friends here, no?" a tall Thin man with short black hair and matching eyes seems to appear out of nowhere, draping an arm around the infuriated American G.I. lazily while smoking a small cigarette.

"GET YOUR FLAMBOYANT FINGERS OFF ME, MEATBALLS!" the Italian laughed and wandered off as two other G.I.s finally wandered over and dragged off their ranting comrades, much to my own relief.

"don'che worry 'bout him" I jumped as one of the giants wandered over and came in behind me, "his beark is far off worse, is all. Most 'round here 've teaken' ta caullin' me 'Moose', you may as well do the saem" he grinned down at me offering his huge paw and grabbing half my forearm unwittingly.

"ATTEN-SHUN!" Sarge cried out, I whirled around to see an older uniformed man enter the room, he held up his hand to wave off the soldiers' salutes and addressed them even as everyone else wandered over.

"Lieutenant Cooper! Good to see you again! Everyone accounted for?"

"SIR, THE MEDIC SAYS ONE OF THE NEW RECUITS IS STILL OUT OF COMMISSION, SIR!"

The man frowned and pursed his lips, clearly displeased. "..I see, and where is our esteemed doctor, exactly?"

"SIR! HE IS OVER BY THE WINDOW, SIR!" bellowed Sarge and as the superior turned to the window, my own eyes followed him to a rail thin man in a lab coat bent over a microscope and a small book, furiously writing notes. He startled as he was approached by the man and the two spoke quietly for a few minutes before disappearing to the infirmary I had just vacated, followed by Sarge.

I found myself in a chair at a card table with Moose and his diminutive companion who was introduced to me simply as 'Boom', an explosive expert from north Ireland with an accent so thick no one but the large Newfoundlander could understand him.

"Mai granda' was frim Areland" explained Moose, "so unner'stan'nin innit haerd, 't'all"

I nodded watching as the others drifted back into their own smaller groups as we waited for the superior to come back - Moose said the man was Colonel Flint Rielly and he was the one who was in charge of briefing us and such. Apparently he and Lieutenant 'Sarge' Cooper had been in the war together. As we discussed this, the men in question came back into the room and ordered us to gather in the next room. After some shuffling and grumbles, the entire group managed to settle onto the benches and we prepared to be briefed.

"Right boys. I am Colonel Flint Rielly, and I'm here to brief you on our plan of attack. first of all, you'll be split into four groups; right flank: Felix, Rogers, Bob Roy and Lukas. Left flank is Ward, Acerbi, Inferno and Phillips. Front line is Davis, Martins, Daigh, Smith, Cooper and Collins. Everyone else is the back line, protecting the medic and Engineer in the center. Everyone got that? Good. Get to know each other well, you'll be fighting in this formation until and unless you're switched out for some reason". He proceeded to give us our defensive and offensive battle plans. 'front' would distract while the two flanks pincered the enemy...simple enough, but being the army - it took over an hour to explain in and then another you go over the minutiae of the plan...by the end, I was hardly the only one nodding off.

"Right men, hit the sack! you leave at 0800 tomorrow as soon as the supply train gets here! Good Luck!" and with a smart turn on his heel, he left us to our own devices.

I turned to wander to the kitchen to find something to eat before finding an empty bunk when I was approached by one of the youths. This one had a round face and a dusting of a beard around his brown face and a wide mouth set in a shy but friendly grin.

"Heya, I'm Tennessee, Tenny's fine though. Looks like we teammates! Any clue who Bab Roy n'Lukas is?" He asked in a lower New York brogue. I shrugged and was about to tell him to enjoy finding them when I noticed one of the professional soldiers approaching, a lanky man with blond hair peaking out from under a knitted aviators hat and a pair of dark shades on his face, was sullenly following.

"If ah dun hurd correct laik, Y'all'r ahr Flank mates, z'at raht?" drawled the chunkier one with a Southern river voice. He held out his leathery hand and I took it with a cautious smile, "Felix." I said again to which he responded, "Bob Roy, aowtta Laws-yanna. Hurd y'ah sed you wus frum France, that raight?"

"y-yes." I admitted, why did they keep bringing that up?

"So..y'all from th' coward part 'r th'uns as akshully fough'?" I stared at him as he laughed at his own 'joke', furious and shocked. Did this man want me to kill him? he was certainly headed in the right direction for a cyanide capsule in his morning coffee. Tenny shuffled a bit, unsure of what to do about the rising tension.

Ah'm just yankin' yur chain ther' boi, no need ta grumble it" he guffawed, slapping me on the back hard enough to hurt. I narrowed my eyes as I recovered, allowing him to 'greet' the nervous barely- adult next. I looked up into the shaded eyes of the lean man, who nodded his head over at Bob Roy with a half shrug. Without a word he leaned up against the nearest wall and watched the big man socially bull down the cringing boy. I stretched my crushed hand and glowered at the turned back; So he wanted to play Alpha Male did he? I could deal with that. God knows I had in the past - they all revealed a weakness soon enough.

Bob Roy soon tired of toying with Tenny and turned to leave, saying something about bed. I smirked, first chink in the chain already? I was almost disappointed...

"Ahem" I coughed to gain his attention, "Aren't you forgetting something?" He look at me obliviously, so I sighed and continued, pointing at the man attempting to blend into the wall, "you 'have yet to introduce our fourth camarade'

It took a second, then Bob Roy forced a laugh, "Jus' be'in' shore youse paid 'ttenshun laike, don' wan' no shirkerers when there's need doin'. Anyhaow, fella don' have no name. Total mute he is, not said nuttin' since he came in...Been callin' him 'Hawk' fer dat fedder round 'is neck, see?" 'Hawk' held up a chain around his neck in confirmation - showing a brown striped feather, I assumed it was a hawk feather then, knowing little of the creatures myself. I nodded to him and he reciprocated the gesture slowly.

"well boys, ah'm off ta saw wood, suggest you do the same." With a lazy wave, Bob Roy turned and headed to a side room, not noticing the confusion left behind.

"'zaw wood'? Why does 'e require lumber? We 'aven't even left base yet..." Hawk shrugged at my question even as Tenny burst out in high yipping chuckles.

" hi hi hi hi hi! 'need lumbah' hah, dat's a gun one! Yer all right fer a frenchie!" he sniffled in his chuckles and waved at us as he, too turned away. " imma get some shut eye, too!" he bounded off, quickly joining his young friends as they also went to what must have been the sleeping quarters. At least he had given me a colloquialism I had understood this time.

As exhaustion threatened, I followed suit, noticing that Hawk followed me in as well. By this time, most of the bunk bed pallets were taken. I found one and dropped my pitiful suitcase at the end, finding a military backpack in the footlocker at its end I switched my belongings into it and shoved the empty case under the bed. I wouldn't need it on the campaign.

I fell into the dreamless sleep my body craved quickly after my head hit the pillow.

...


	3. those who Waken

Those who Waken

I woke up a few hours later to the roaring grumbles of a digestive system that hadn't eaten in over twenty four hours...or had it been longer? How long had I been knocked out for? I had been in Costa Rica last, who knew where I was now...likely in the States.. somewhere.

As I pondered this I got back and tread lightly to the kitchenette only to see a small light already on. I approached it cautiously, who else would be up at such a ridiculous hour.

A figure hunched over on a stool near the counter, its back to me - was it wearing a boilersuit? I could see a strange apparatus on its back, full of tubes, wires and tanks. It breathed heavily, with a strange echoing sound - like something from an old nightmare.

"ça va-?" I had approached, reaching out to him when he jerked and, faster than i thought possible was swinging a hatchet at my face. I rolled back a shoulder, just barely dodging. There was a shatter and the light broke in a shatter of sparks.

"what on earth-?" I was interrupted again by a smothered incoherent bellow from my shadowy attacker who swung at me again wildly. What was wrong with him? Did he think I was an intruder?

"Halte!" A sudden voice called out followed swiftly by a light to my left. It distracted me from my opponent, giving him an opening to kick me in my side and send me crashing to the floor. He levelled the hatchet at me and charged, sweeping it above his head, ready to send it into my exposed skull.

"Verdamnit, I zed HALTE!" A hand grabbed onto my opponents hand and twisted it in a sweeping motion, leaving the shorter man on the floor - hatchet-less. I scrambled to my feet, looking to my rescuer and finding myself pinned down by a pair of piercing blue-grey eyes. They were set in a thin pinched face with a long nose attached to a high forehead and dark, swept back hair.

The man...erm thing he was holding was a different matter altogether; its face seemed composed of a rather askew gasmask, like it had been shoved down, last minute. The rest of the - thing - was covered with a thick dark blue boilersuit ending in similarly covered army boots. the giant tank attached to its back, gave it a much bigger appearance.

"Now vat iz goink on here?!" demanded the sharp German voice. its owner looking sharply between the two of us. I felt a scream crawling at my throat; that voice.. it was. ..like his.. like them..!

He released the blue clad character, glaring down at the sullen figure rubbing its wrist resentfully.

"I believe I vas quite clear, Herr Ignatius zat you ver not to push yourself for za next two days, ja?" he pulled the masked man closer, "zis does not mean you go vanderink around alone at night!"

"bruff rinnrrarumph runrry-" the hunchbacked figure began a muffled attempt at communicating something before the German waved a hand and interrupted him,

"nein. I do not vant your excuses! Now go back to zat infirmary and zleep!" to my shock the creature shuffled to the direction of the pointed finger and soon faded beyond the ring of light from the kitchenette. The thin man turned to me, adjusting his glasses, and held out a hand from where I still sprawled on the floor. I ignored it and, red faced at such a humiliation, scrambled to my feet, ignoring the other man while I brushed off my suit. The man stiffened and withdrew the proffered hand, placing it behind his back to clasp it's brother.

"he can be razzer zensitive about people zeeink him" he said dryly, "you are, uninjured?" I snorted a laugh at his careful wording; uninjured indeed I thought, I doubt anyone would be 'alright' after a madman attempts to kill them with an axe! He was still watching, however, so I sufficed with a nod of my head and turned to the kitchenette again, opening cupboards to see what was available while doing my best to ignore the icy eyes that bored into my back. If you act like it doesn't bother you then it will confuse those who watch you.

It was a part of my training that had served well in the past, and continued to do so now, as soon I heard a swish and the sharp clicking of boots fading back towards the infirmary. Only then did I release the breath with a shuddering laugh. What the hell had I gotten into?

...

Sorry for the short one, I'm working on the next few ^.^


	4. Those that Embark

Those that Board

An off tune bugle blowing nearby shook me out of bed and reaching for one of my knives before I was even fully aware of it.

"UP AND ATT'EM, MAGGOTS!" groans and complaints around me let me know I wasn't the only one annoyed to be awoken so early in the morning. Outside the single window, the sun had barely peaked over the distant hills.

"Sarge, it's not even 7 yet..." complained a sleepy voice. Only to have Sarge laugh boisterously and clamp down on the man's shoulder, dragging him out of the bed and, still laughing like a madman, drag the struggling man down the hall into the washroom and throw him - still clothed - into the shower.

The rest of us looked at each other, stunned, when Sarge reappeared in the doorway, a huge satisfied grin on his face. "WHO'S NEXT, CAKE PEDDLERS?!" God help us he was a morning person!

We all scrambled for our clothing and belongings, cleaning and grooming ourselves while trying to keep a half eye on the prowling man. Because I had moved everything I owned into the army pack the night before, I was slightly ahead of the game, but just barely as I kept tripping over the thin black scout who had been sleeping in the bunk above me. The outfits had been provided - mostly leftovers from the last two wars and I managed to get some pieces that actually matched, unlike the scout next to me who had a mix of blue greens and browns. Mine also came with a long dark blue coat, providing plenty of hiding spaces for equipment or personals. I stumbled out of the chaos of the sleeping quarters into the main room and attached kitchenette noticing a few others had already gathered there. Slipping by them I moved to the communal washroom and, checking to ensure I was alone, opened the medical kit on the wall and grabbed a few of the rolls of bandages. I stuffed most of them into my bag and, taking the last one and the emergency scissors, I went to the other half of the room and – after a quick shower - unwrapped my face and put on a set of clean bandages - ensuring that they covered my features. I had no desire for anyone to see my face.

Back in the other room, more of the others had settled down and were fixing breakfast. Moose was cooking up a storm of porridge and was chatting amiably to Raymond who was mixing omelettes, next to him, one of the big military guys was frying them up and setting them on plates, shooing away two hovering scouts and telling them to get the omelettes to the others instead of standing around.

The table was far too small for all of us to sit, many just sat on the floors of leaned against the walls, eating what they could and chatting politely. Well, some of them did. I noticed the doctor was at the window seat as he had been at yesterday, but was now facing into the room as opposed to exposing his back to the rest of the soldiers.

The...creature from last night was standing with another man in a flame retardant suit, a third man with the rich skin and rounded face of some sort of native, joined them with plates if food. All three were comparing flame throwers: these explained the need for their strange protective gear.

Of course the loudest group was also the biggest and included the general soldiers and the three scouts.

"The train ain't even here yet! Why the hell d'we havta be up so friggin' early- Ouch!"

" watch your language, son"

"ain't your son, and you aint my pa, so frickin' lay off, "

"don't mouth off to your superiors and betters, kid!"

"oh yeah and which one you supposed ta be, ya fathead?"

It went on for a while, the scout enraging the soldier and one of the Heavy weapons guys until both were chasing the swifter one all around the enclosed space- dodging around people and leaping over tables, laughing and calling back 'encouragements' to the two huffing members.

"FALL IN!" Sarge came in, followed by the Colonel Flint Rielly and everyone froze. The professionals immediately lined up in a row in front of the two men, they were followed hesitantly by those of us not used to military jargon and tactics.

"ATTEN-SHUN!" he barked, now from his position in the ranks. Everyone saluted, either in the European or American style.

"Right, men. There was a delay with the transport train, so it's just arrived and is waiting outside. Gather up your gear! Each of you will receive your full packs as you board the train. One more thing, because it is never known when a Communist spy may be listening in, we recommend not using your real names when in the field. you will pick your code names when on the train and tell your engineer there, Mr. Clyde, when you have done so. His mechanical dispenser comes equipped with and engraving tool and it will be added to your dog tags."

"like I've nuthin' be're ta do.." I heard the mechanic mutter.

"….get your gear and head out! Good luck men! They'll be expecting you at the training camp in 40 hours or so!" he saluted us again and left before most of us could work out our own salutes back. After that, it was a scramble to gather our things...and anything else we could lift off the place. As I peeked into a kitchen, I noticed one of the scouts jerk up from the fridge where he was sheepishly gathering anything that he thought might last the trip. One of the giants was rooting around in the cabinets and I, myself, started going through the drawers and lower cupboards.

Stuffing my misbegotten goods into as many pockets as I could, I quickly grabbed some of the fruit from the fridge, ignoring the scouts blustering protests, and headed off to the main room again. Where Sarge was waiting near a towering pile of supply bags and, as usual, was shouting down whatever argument one of the other soldiers was trying to bring up.

One of the flame retardant men came up to me, it was the one without a mask. He was a swarthy man and shorter, though also broader in chest than I could ever have been. he could have easily placed anywhere between 40 and 60 age wise. He looked at me, up and down, like one would size up a cow at market, then frowned, twisting his head one way or another.

"can I 'elp you, monsieur?" I asked pointedly. He gave me a fierce grin and laughed, throwing back his head.

"Just a game, just a game." he chuckled, " I see people, their spirits and who they are" he shook a finger at me, "you are a tricky one, but not as selfish as you pretend to be..nor as self assured." his words cut into me like knives, and I was glad he couldn't see through the bandages and see the blood drain from my face.

"I do not know what you mean.." I said, only to be cut short by the smaller brown man.

"Not a fox, for sure... Nor a crow...perhaps a cat?" he peered at my eyes, which traitorously widened. He nodded and backed away, thankfully before I lost my balance. "yes, a cat then, for you have traveled many roads and had many lives, haven't you?" I felt my hand inching towards a knife I had, erm, borrowed earlier. Did he know something... Was he a threat?

He surprised me by laughing again, "put away your claws. I mean you no harm. As I said before, I place people so I can tell how they with act" he pointed to Moose who was lifting two packs and heftier them up, brushing off the tiny Irishman obvious protests, "who do you think named him 'Moose'?"

I relaxed slightly and moved to take my own pack, adding it to my satchel and handing another to the smaller man and moving quickly apart to separate myself from the sharp black eyes.

"RIGHT, PICK UP YOUR WEAPONS FROM THE QUARTERMASTER ON YOUR WAY OUT!" bellowed Sarge. I winced, that would take some getting used to.. taking the combat knife, pistol and rifle from the bleary eyed man in a combat outfit, I made my way to the train which had steamed in outside. The others were loading up the train with further supplies but they seemed to gave a handle on things. Weaving around and through the milling group, I entered the train.

The first cabin was filled with facing seats divided by tables, and I quickly made my way to the back corner where I could keep an eye on everything that might happen, as well as both doors...you're only paranoid if nothing ends up happening after all.

Next to board was the doctor, behind him shuffled the gas masked fellow. The doctor set him up in one of the seats further up the front of the car and gave him some paper and a few broken crayons to occupy it...I blinked, was the medic also its caretaker..? It made sense in a way...like some crazy two-for-one deal that these Americans were so fond of. The medic himself sat across the isle and quickly occupied the table there with files and notes in manila envelopes.

The others trooped on in their own groups, settling in and around the centre of the train car, one table opening a pack of cards for a game of poker and the other table cheering on a game of checkers and shout out suggestions. more of the others just grumbled and did their best to fall asleep. Personally, I found myself faced with the Amerindian from before who seemed determined to be friends.

"Forgot to introduce myself, friend." he lay down his flamethrower with a scraping clang on the table between us and held out his hand as he sat across from me. "Name's Bellows" he said cheerfully.

"Strange. I would 'ave zought zat to be ze 'Zarges' name" I said taking the proffered hand. We clasped hands and chuckled as Sarge chose that moment to accuse someone of cheating in the poker game. Loudly accuse them. Naturally it devolved into a scuffle.

"Well zen, in your little 'game', 'ow would you name ze Lieutenant?" I asked, watching as the man in question hammered into Chester with his fists. the black demolitions expert was trying to help his friend out but had his own hands full holding off two of the other soldiers.

"Eagle" Bellows said, moving his backpack out of the way of two rolling combatants, "maybe cougar. loud but a leader, too." I nodded, it made sense.

"What of 'im?" I nodded to where Moose was talking to his diminutive companion. "Za Irishman?"

"Hmm, a badger or quail, perhaps?" he wondered, automatically knowing that I wasn't speaking of Moose.

"A quail would be too shy for 'im, I zink..'owever, ze badger works well wiz 'im" Bellows nodded in agreement, and we moved on to the scouts who we decided to be a squirrel, rooster and rabbit before the three in question had the bad luck to actually overhear us and decide to join in - squishing their way into the seats. Together we covered the team in animals from all over the world - laughing as they pointed out the general soldiers as a bull, dog and a rather lazy lion and laughed at 'Rabbits' description of Bob Ray as a boar. They had just decided that the black explosive expert, Oskar, was a ram when we were approached by the sleek Italian.

" _Mi scusi, amico_. Might I bother you for a moment?" I nodded and brushed myself off as I got up, the other man heading for the back of the train car. Suddenly, Bellows caught my sleeve, "do not trust the jackle...his smile is his mask." He didn't release me until I nodded, and then allowed me to follow the other suited man.

We entered the other room and, immediately, there was a noticeable drop in temperature, as well as proper lighting.

"smoke?" he asked, gently offering me a box of Black Sobranies, I lifted an eye at him as I accepted. He lit it for me and I breathed a deep sigh as the smoke filtered in and the nicotine hit my lungs. The sweet taste of cloves mixed with a smooth taste of black tea leaves mixed in with the tobacco. I made sense that these were considered the royalty class cigarettes of Europe!

"Ahh, it is so hard to find good cigarettes here in America, _d'accordo_?" he sighed as his own trail of smoke climbed through the shafts of light coming through the wooden siding.

" _vraiment_ ," I agreed with another exhalation, "where would one even find such riches 'ere?" I wondered out loud. There was a slight pause from the Italian, who then slid his eyes to me and gave me a rather sly grin.

"one needs the right friends.." then chuckled. "par favor, amico. We are cut of the same cloth, you and I. we have no need to dance like this." he reached out his hand, "Call me Magpie".

I accepted the hand, "Felix."

"Oh? you actually use your real name? rather dangerous, no?"

I snorted, "I would 'ardly tell you my tradename would I?"

" _touche_ " we both chuckled at the Italians french term.

"besides, I was not 'ired for my other...talents. Just to be canon fodder, as it were" I sighed.

" _Dai_! do you truly believe that they hired you as just another gun? you think they did not know your past? _Ma, che sei grullo_?" he laughed again. "they would not have hired us without looking into our pasts...certainly they knew mine." he leaned in a conspiratorial way, "we are here to keep an eye on the others, to see who might be a problem, who conspires..and, if there is opportunity, to explore any enemy camps we come across...we are scouts, but more so...we are spies!"

I thought this over silently, watching the last wisps of smoke drift from the end of my black cigarette as I snuffed it out. A spy... I felt chill up my spine that came with the suppressed memories fighting to be recalled. I ruthlessly pushed them aside once more, I had no time to be melancholy.

"and 'ow, exactly, are we to be beneficial in battle to our _collègues_?" Certainly outside the battlefield, sleuthing and communications would understandably fall under our supervision..

"It has been dealt with already, _amico_. Recall, the Colonel already set us both on opposing flanks, to sneak behind the enemy and cut them off!" he too stubbed out his cigarette and looked back at me, that devilish smile back in place, "backstabbing is within our calling, _si_?"

I shrugged, I had my loyalties, of course, but like any thief or informer, you couldn't very well deal in anything if you were dead.

"On the matter of our _collega_ , what do you think of them?" he asked.

I snorted, "zey are complete fools! zey can 'ardly be in ze same room without breaking into fights! _c'est ridicule!_ zey are supposed to be adults, _non_? 'ow can such men be sent to battle?!"

Magpie broke into laughter beside me, trying and failing to smother it. I joined in not long after, he had a rather infectious laugh after all.

"It seems we are in agreement then, _signore_ " he straightened himself and brushed off his suit, "It seems we have our work cut out for us then, yes?"

" _évidemment_ " I said as we exited the storage carriage and back into the chaos of the passenger car.

...

So yeah, things start to get mpre exciting soon, I promise! I just need them to bond first!


	5. Those that Travel

I went back to my seat, noticing gratefully that the conversation and its talkers had vacated the space and claimed their own table where they where eating some sandwhiches. one of the scouts waved me over when he noticed me looking in their direction.

"Heya Frenchy! There's food n' stuff up front..we wasn't sure what ya wan'ned, though.."

"Ah, I see. Merci." I moved quickly to the other end of the train, the breakfast felt like it was years ago.

I snatched up a sandwich and a cup of canned fruit that were laid out on the counter in the other small compartment. after hesitating between a salad - with real lettuce no less! - or taking another sandwich instead; I took my bounty and started back to my seat, brushing off the cocky scouts offer of a seat. However, settling down was harder than I thought. These men were so damned loud! The poker game was still miraculously going on..or perhaps they had restarted it and there was a wrestling match going on between Moose and the black demolitions expert who seemed none the worse for wear from his earlier encounter with the soldiers. I ate my food, quite content to muse over the information I had received from Magpie.

"..Gotta catch me first, ya plodder!" I had been settling down for a nap when the next fight broke out closer to me. It was the scouts this time, completely unable to keep still for so long they decided to treat the train - and its occupants - as an obstacle course! I groaned as more yelling began from the disturbed denizens of the train compartment.

Grabbing the woolen blanket, and untying it from the top of the backpack next to me, I decided that the back car, though colder, would certainly be quiet enough for a proper rest. I dodged through the car, doing my best not to get entangled in the shouting match nor the game of 'run amok' with the two boys.

Darting into the darker back car, I breathed a sigh of relief as the noise died down with the door closed...only my sigh wasn't the loudest noise. A heavy breathing came foe inside the car, and I knew who's muffled breath it was even before my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I turned to face the sound and , once again, found myself facing the glass lenses of a black gas mask. We stated at each other. ..at least I did , before noticing the plate of half eaten food on the crate beside him. Once again, I had disturbed him...and as his breathing increased into a low growl I realists that this was the second time in under twenty four hours! And our last meeting was not an experience I cared to repeat.

"ah.. excuse – moi, I will rest in de 'ozzer car after all." Just as quickly as I had entered, I fled the car leaving calm and dignity behind.

I practically flung myself back into my seat, grateful , for once, that my fellow compatriots were so wound up in themselves to notice my embarrassment and odd behaviour. My relief, however, was short lived when a large flamethrower was suddenly slammed down on the table before me.

Terrified, looked up into the manics' lenses. He had followed me! I breathed in, calming myself automatically. Stay in charge of the situation..

" may I 'elp you?" I asked calmly.

"wrr yrr fllrrrnn mry?!" I could tell he was demanding something from me from his time. Anger and frustration oozing out of syllables that were too mangled to understand.

"pardon..?" I noticed how his body tensed, a tiger before it charged, if I couldn't figure out what he was saying then I'd soon find myself on the business end of his flamethrower!

"I – I do not know what you want with me, monsieur...but I cannot understand your words. ."

"bruffruff!" he snarled...then paused and shuffled off, leaving his weapon on the table. ..as I noticed this and understood it's implications of his return he dragged over one of his other masked friends. This one wore goggles and a face mask along with a deep black hood. He didn't seem overly – enthusiastic about being dragged away from whatever he had been doing.

Mumbling something, my maddened accuser pointed at me and somehow communicated his problem to the depths of the hood. It sighed and popped open its mask filter.

"he says you are following him.." I waited for him to continue, concealing my own shock that one of the masked figures had spoken, so it took me a moment to realise that he wasn't going to continue.

"I am sorry 'e feels so. 'owever, zese instances 'ave been unintentional, I'm afraid. I 'ave little interest in what your friend does with 'imself. I was looking for a quieter place to rest, that is all." I looked directly at the silent mask, "my apologies for the distress"

A string of mumbles was the only reply I received, after which he stormed off, this time, taking his weapon with him. An awkward pause followed as the hooded incendiarist and I stared at each other, neither of us looking to talk to the other. Eventually he simply turned and walked away and I turned to the window as the lights were finally turned off, and watched the stars blink to life.

I woke hours later as dawn filtered in over the trees. Blinking I straightened out of the seat, unsure as to what noise had disturbed me. It had been a strange 'whump' noise..certainly not the cacophony of snores and grumbles around me. I moved to the front of the cart to see if someone was perhaps getting something to eat from the dining car when the world exploded in a blast of fire and noise.

...

Merci - thanks

excuse – moi - excuse me

wrr yrr fllrrrnn mry - why you following me?

bruffruff - bullshit!


	6. Those that Collaborate

The first thing noticed was a heaviness on me when i woke up, the ringing in my ears from the explosion fading enough for me to hear guns and explosions around me. I tried to get up, but with every second, the wieght on me seemed to double. I twisted around, trying to see what was pinning me down, but my back screamed in protest and i collapsed once more into the dirst. Around me was the wreckage of the train, the yelling and return fire nearby told me I wasn't the only survivor..were they close enough?

"'elp!" I cried out, "Aidez-moi!" I started scrambling with my hands, trying to gain purchase on the slippery ground lever my way out. I heard a noise and turned towards it and met with the last person I thought to see.

Holding a large fireman's ax was the head masked pyro, the one who seemed to hold something against me. He was staring at me with those glassy lenses. It was quite unnerving.

He nodded, to himself it seemed, and raised the fire ax over his head, aiming it at me. I shut my eyes, and cringed, this wasn't the way I thought I'd die. I'd always imagined that my thieving and spying ways would eventually catch up with me, or that I'd finally meet my match in a dramatic shootout.

There was a whoosh as the ax descended followed by a loud 'splorch' sound of metal meeting flesh at high velocity...I felt nothing. I looked up to see the pyrotechnician hacking away at something above me, blood splurting forth every time it made contact. A few more powerful swings and the pressure on me released suddenly. He moved forward and heaved, and something metal screamed at his attentions.

As I scrambled out from beneath whatever had held me down, a sudden shout brought my immediate attention to a soldier in a long red and brown coat aiming a gun at my rescuers' back. I didn't even think as I drew the pistol from my side and fired at him twice, hitting his leg and stomach. The mask turned towards the screaming man and finished him off with his bloody ax. Reminded, I turned to see what had been trapping me, and found the bullish heavy weapons soldier hacked in two. Part of him was covered in a metal frame that had been part of the train exterior. I threw up at his side. I had barely known him, of course, but that never made it easy to see.

I turned to see the mask watching me, and as I stood up he offered me his canteen. I blinked and took it, washing away the foulness in my mouth and returned it.

"Merci. Come we must find the others."

"Mmph." he nodded and waved me into the trees as he lead the way. I followed, moving slowly and carefully, staying as low as we could and using the bushes as cover. We followed the sounds of fighting to its source- an exploded wreck that had been the first car was being used as a shield between a handful of our own blue clad team mates and a unknown number of assailants, who were using the trees as cover.

We scrambled across the open area and over the tracks as fast as we could and got to shelter before too many bullets were aimed our way. Clyde looked up and nodded from his machine where he held a breathing apparatus over one of the GI's mouth as he was being operated on by the Doctor, who was doing his best to stop the profuse bleeding from where one of his legs was missing. Pot shooting out of the window was the cowboy sniper, Chester, who had lost his hat and had bandages across his back. Next to him was Bob Roy and the black soldier who was blasting away with a bazooka gun and yelling insults at anything that poked its head out. Oskar the demolitions expert and one of the scouts were further to the right behind the twisted remains of the rest of the train car.

"Apologies, messieurs. What needs doing?"

"Good ta see ya 'live there," Clyde called over from his spot on the floor, "We're a bit pinned down here actually. Figure you can take Smokey there and head 'round their back door for a bit o' ruckus -"

"Now hold up there, buck! Why should anyone take orders from you?" Bob Roy came over from the window and got in the darker man's face, "There've been 'splosions and all kinda fightin' over from the right! There're others over there! We just lettin'em twist, are we?!"

"Gentlemen." The fighting stopped abruptly as I stood in the close confines, "Arguing gets us nowhere!"

I turned to Bob Roy, the more volatile of the two, and spoke as calmly as I could while ensuring that he knew I would be taking no orders from anyone but myself, "I will go see about those fighting zere. 'owever, I will be taking ze 'route panoramique'. If I 'elp ozzers only for all of you to perish in ze meantime, I 'ave 'elped no one" Clyde nodded before going back to helping the man on the ground. Ray grumbled but went back to the window; a troublesome man, that one.

I waited until Oskar's launcher signaled me with its near-comical 'doot'ing sound before making my darting move back into the trees. Ensuring that no bullets had followed me, I slinked through the trees to cut around and ambush our attackers - slowing my pace and ducking lower as the sounds of their guns got closer. I located my first targets quickly – two soldiers in red jackets, both with self loader carbines. One glanced back, they must have sent off for help...I narrowed my eyes, I'd have to ensure they never got it.

Turning to move around behind them, I came face to face with the glassy eyes of a nightmare. I strangled a scream at his presence not two feet from me.

"What ze 'ELL are you doing 'ere?!" I demanded in a whisper. He held up the ax; mon Diex! It was still dripping with blood!

"You are trying to 'elp, zen?"

"Mrr-hrr" He nodded eagerly. I looked at him, why was he helping me? He seemed to have completely forgotten his rage at me from the train.

"zen stay back and ensure zat no one interferes." And I was off again, nerves on edge as i exposed my back to the masked maniac. But after the expected double cross didn't come, I relaxed and moved quickly through the bushes and trees, swiftly circumventing the two reds. I managed to slice one throat with a clean spray of blood that covered his shocked comrade, and I couldn't help the chuckle that slipped out as I added more blood to the forest floor with an easy flick of my knife once more.

Unfortunately that's when there other comrade decided to show up, brandishing his gun and shouting something in his own native language. He stopped and started to repeat himself..a command of some sort I descended. .but that was all I could garner. He was now gesturing at me..miming for me go..ahh, my knife. That's what he wanted. I held up my hands slowly and saw him relax fractionally, releaved that I understood.

I grinned and he froze. Allowing the hatchet come from behind him and hit him clean in the head. I felt a chuckle bubble in my throat, and stopped it even as the Pyrotechnician tugged out the small axe.

I turned and moved on to my – our – next targets, they were further on. My axed companion quickly caught up with me and we crouched our way over to where we could hear shouting and explosions. We were closing in when was the yelling started much closer. I turned to see, once more, a red clad soldier pointing a gun at me..and this time, my companion was next to me. I closed my eyes in frustration. I hadn't considered that there would be another soldier outside of the two groups...! Bordel de merde...

He was making the same signals as the other one had ..maybe I could distract him? Could I signal to the technician beside me to lay down his axe, then attack the soldier on my own? I was less encumbered than either of them...I raised my arms, scowling and turned to tell my companion to do the same. Instead he raised his axe higher.

"Non, imbécile! You'll get yourself killed...and me, as well!" He shook his head stubbornly, gripping his axe tighter to himself. The soldier turned his gun on him. I needed to either get his attention or loose it completely.

"Ai! Connard! Ici, vous crétin dégénéré!" He turned back to me as I inched my way away from the axe-man. If I could keep his attention on me...would could he maybe get a chance to use it? The gun came up again, merde but he was twitchy! At this point the gun was shaking from one of us to the other – the gap was widening by the second as the axe man finally seemed to understand.

"Vien cher, put down the gun, bien-la! If you do, perhaps he will spare you, non?" I wouldn't. But the soldier didn't know this – bordel, he might not even know English!

I came to this conclusion when the shot rang out through the air. I flinched, the noise was like a thunderclap in the air! I flicked my eyes to the axeman but saw no blood on him..well, no more than before in an case..

The soldier dropped just as my eyes flicked back to him. His head was gone..just gone! A new figure fell out of the forest canopy in a controlled roll, coming up with a sniper rifle at the ready, before slowly unfolding into the lanky form of Hawk.

Glassy lenses looked into dusty aviators as the two looked at each other, abruptly the fire man lowered his giant axe and Hawk put up his gun.

"Mrph." Said the fireman

"Mm" grunted the sniper.

I giggled, then chuckled, laughing until I leaned against a nearby tree. The two looked at me, heads canted in unison to one side.

An explosion behind me sobered the situation, reminding me - us - that there were others depending on us for a rescue. I sent Hawk back up to watch for others again and to come in behind myself and the fireman. There was hardly a need, when we got to the next battleground it was also a standoff, my allies hidden behind whatever scant protection they could find – mostly more twisted wreckage from the train. There were nine enemies this time – and I took the first one out with a quick slash of my knife to his throat. I had managed to get his friend next to him through the ribs when I was finally noticed. Number three hadn't finished his warning shout before he was taken out by a flung hatchet, followed by its owner who came crashing in, wildly waving his bigger axe while giving muffled shrieks from behind the mask. The axe took out two more opponents as I drew my revolver and shot another. There was a shout from behind me and something shiney arced through the air to land between me and the three left standing.

BOOM!

...

By the way guys, I'd really appreciate some feedback.

...

translations:

 _Aidez-moi - help me_

 _Merci - thanks_

 _route panoramique - scenic route_

 _mon Diex!- my God!_

 _Bordel de merde - For crying out loud (lit. whorehouse of shit)_

 _Ai! Connard! Ici, vous crétin dégénéré - Hey! Motherfucker! over here, you degenerate cretin!_

 _Vien cher..bien-la - come dear..that's it_

 _bordel - brothel, whorehouse...used instead of 'fuck'._


	7. Those who Die

Someone was shaking me by the shoulder, but I was already awake... I could see the leaves above me, edging into the yellows of early autumn. Why were they still shaking me? I tried to tell them to go away, but my mouth wouldn't open and only a low groan came out of me.

"Move! _Abseits! Jetzt!_ " A blood splattered man in a long grey-brown coat crouched beside me, and the long anxious face of the medic came into focus. Others, who had been crowded around, shuffled in my peripheral vision. One shuffled forward and suddenly a pair of soulless black lenses.

"'Allo, _marmonne_... _alors, nous avons gagné, oui_?" The lenses tilted, confused, then i realized that I had spoken in french automatically. "Ah, we won, then?"

"If not ve'd be dead, no? If you were dead I would not be tending you.." Said the doctor bluntly. I coughed and winced as my diaphragm objected. "we..we thought you was dead..!" I looked into the dark brown eyes of Tenny, who was splattered with blood and mud. His eyes were worried and his nose was twitching unconsciously – a rabbit, indeed.

"obviously not – _Docteur_ , what exactly are you - ?!" I tried to sit up, but was push back down, none-too-gently, by the doctor who had apparently decided that the ground was good enough for my operation and began digging into me with fingers and metal. It felt like he was scraping my bones with scalpels...he might have been, for all I knew. My eyes were closed as tight as they could be. I heard vomiting nearby and I was fairly certain it wasn't the doctor.

" _Hase_ , go elsevere, will you?" Said the doctor sharply, confirming that it was Tenny throwing up – apparently the doctor agreed that with the name we had given the boy. He left eventually, the doctor soon followed after to find another soldier to carve up. It gave me a chance to catch my breath finally. Footsteps approached after a while and I realized that I had faded out for a while, someone had put something soft beneath my head. I squinted up into the raised hood of Magpie. He was smiling, as usual, but it was...tight.

"Ah, you live then, _bene_. We worried we would bury another." Another. I leaned back again, and I felt a darkness long thought gone, stir in me – desolation.

" _Qui...combien_?"

"six" he answered, in my language. He lifted me and helped me stagger to the graves under the boughs of a large oak near the gnarled remains of the head of the train. Six dead. I was there as Sarge read them off.

Leo Collins, a G.I from Massachusetts, he had bled out while the doctor tried to operate on him.

Chester Ward, the sniper from Texas.

Kenneth Moore, the Heavy that Mumbles had hacked apart to get to me...I could only hope he had been dead beforehand.

Oskar Wilson, the black explosives expert from Georgia.

Atsidi Bellows, the friendly native man who had given most of us our code names. Names many would now accept in honour of the man we couldn't even bury. He had still been on the train, apparently..nothing left of him but a burned skeleton attached to his flame thrower.

Curtis Martins, a nineteen year old kid from New York. The scouts were devestated. Especially Stanley, he had been close to the other boy and now... the Rooster was staring at the grave, eyes lost in witness to the horror...he had been with him...right next to him, Magpie explained, when he was shot. Terry crouched next to the stunned boy, silently supporting him.

"Men, we stand here, at the graves of these soldiers..." Sarge was standing, facing the graves in front of us, his voice strangely hoarse and quiet...well quiet for him anyways. "These brave men who gave their lives...and because of that, we, men, are still alive. 'We make a living by what we get; but we make a life by what we give' and these men gave it all. They will be missed and we will honour their memories by not standing around waiting to die! We will keep moving! We will STAY STRONG! AND WE WILL STAY ALIVE SO THEY ARE NOT FORGOTTEN!" He finished at his usual ear-blistering volume before throwing a proud salute to the mounds of earth. We stood there, for a full minute before Sarge finally turned towards us.

"Right men, here's the plan, we need to get to Well Base. But we can't leave our munitions and supplies here, and there's no way we can carry most of it. Therefore, we will take as much as we can, bury as much as we can and burn the rest.." At this point Mumbles looked around startled as if he had been prodded before a small muffled giggle came from his direction.

"Well, ain't someone happy.." Muttered Bob Ray, glaring at the small man, who was now bouncing with delight.

"Yes.." Murmered Moose, though in a much kinder tone.

"WE DO NOT HAVE TIME TO BE STANDING AROUND, PEOPLE!" Ahh, Sarge had recovered then. "MOOSE! YOU, RAY AND CLYDE WILL WORK ON DIGGING AN AREA TO HIDE AND DISGUISE WHAT WE CAN'T TAKE! MEDIC, GET THE FRENCHIE ON HIS FEET AND READY TO TRAVEL! JOHN, PHIL AND MEATBALLS WILL SORT THROUGH WHAT WE CAN TAKE! THE PYROS AND BOOM WILL TAKE CARE OF THE REST! AND MEN" he paused, "WE'RE OFFICIALLY IN ENEMY TERRITORY, BOYS! ACT LIKE IT!" We split up to our designated jobs...I was seated firmly next to Rooster while the doctor ensured that my shrapnel wounds hadn't reopened. Around me, I could hear the group working on their various tasks, most in subdued conversations, some working silently. The main focus of conversations were what supplies went in which pile and... codenames?

"well, waddabout Wrenchy?" Asked one of the troopers

"It's Clyde"

"Spanner?" Asked the other GI

"It's Clyde."

"Clamp? Crowbar?!" They seemed intent on trying to annoy Clyde.

"What? You wanna leave the Winchesters behind? Are you mad, man?" That was Moose.

"Well we cant take the Mortars! Sparky, what the hey are you doing with those Carbines?"

"burning"

"Wha-?! Moose!"

"I got it – Boom! Get the bigger stuff down first, once we're sorted here you can have the rest."

"Butbuissnessisboomin'!hahahaha!Rightladswe'llletoffthencomeonbayswe'veworkupfrontthen" was it me or was that almost intelligible?

"commonyamankymotts!Rakesoshiitetagetboxedoffthen!"

Never mind.

"Little Rock? Arkensaw-yeowch!" Apparently, Clyde had had enough of the names.

They finally got everything sorted, most of the equipment was buried, leaving little for the firemen and Boom to do, much to the Irishman's verbal disappointment. Rabbit and Hawk returned, apparently having gone scouting ahead, and had found a place to camp a few hours from here. We finally got a move on before the afternoon shadows reached too far, carrying as much as we could. The doctor had loaded himself with two extra medical haversacks, his personal briefcase on top of his own green rucksack and had set everyone with carrying extra blankets or medical satchels. Only the scouts and Hawk got out of being overburdened, as they needed their mobility. The Heavies got even more. With Hawk and the rabbit boy loping ahead of us we began the trudge deeper into the forest.

...

Move! Abseits! Jetzt! - out of the way! NOW!

Allo, marmonne... alors, nous avons gagné, oui - hello, mumbler, so, we have won, yes?

Hase - rabbit

" _Qui...combien_?" - who...how many?

curious if people need me to translate for Boom, or not. Also, please let me know what you think?


	8. Those who watch

When we finally set up camp that night, we had long surpassed the area which had initially been suggested as a campground.

Sarge had said it was still too close to the wreckage, "IF THEY ENEMY IS LOOKING FOR US, THEN THEY WILL FIND US EASILY! WE ARE NOT GIVING UP, BY GOD! THERE IS STILL LIGHT – SO WE WILL STILL MARCH!" He let us sit for perhaps fifteen minutes before sheparding us after the scout and Hawk who found another place hours later.

We set up mostly around the fire, so the heat might warm us. Sarge had to order two tents further back so they wouldn't catch on the flames.

"'Ey!whats the big idea?!"Bob Roy shouted out as John started sniffing the air, dropping his end of the tent that he and Roy were setting up.

"He gets like that, usually there's food nearby.." calmed Philips. A moment later, a triumphant John came back covered in scratches and bearing both a large grin and a handful of raspberries.

Rounds of congratulations and small cheers heralded his discovery of the small raspberry thicket we all soon raided. Bruises and scrapes were soon added to the injury list until Sarge broke us up into two groups, one smaller one for harvesting the bounty, and the rest to set up camp and keep the fire going.

"keep it small, mind you. No need to advertise ourselves." I was almost surprised by how quiet he was, and that made us all realise how serious he was. We were in enemy territory, not only that, it was wilderness. Bears and other creatures would probably show up for the berries too. I decided against volunteering for watch that night, I had no desire to cross a bears path here.

After gorging ourselves on berries and a few cans of watery tomato soup, we finally settled around the fire.

"Men, I'm not going to lie to you" began Sarge, "things have gotten a lot more dangerous, now. We will have to be swift and quiet if we want to make it to base alive. Davis; you, Rabbit, and Hawk will be our scouts, one in front, one to each side. Ensure no enemies find us and that we stay on the right track." Rooster saluted lazily, he seemed more lively after the headlong dash we had made into the woods.

"Anything to add men?"

"yeah.." We all turned to looked at Rooster, "communicashuns, long distance type, ya know? How we supposed ta let ya know if sumthin's up?"

We pondered on that, we had no walky-talkies, having left them behind in exchange for food and medical supplies.

"signals of some kind?" Suggested Moose

"mirror?"

"might catch the wrong eyes though.."

"smoke?"

"Hell naw"

"birds."

Everyone looked at Magpie who shrugged. "we used dog barks back home..but that wont work here...crows perhaps? They are clever birds after all.." The scouts looked at each other, then at Hawk, who shrugged his acceptance.

"You three can discuss it tonight and let us know tomorrow. Anything else?" When we were silent, Sarge finished up, "three rounds of three guards then; first watch is Clyde, Baguette and the Doc are first shift, Meatballs, Sparky and Boom are second, and John, Philips and myself are dawn. Three hours each – MOVE IT!" This last, growled over mumbled complaints, myself amongst them. We were all tired but knew that we needed a watch. Magpie grinned at me and patted me on the back in consolation before heading to the tent we had set up.

I quickly moved away from the berry patch and set up my vigil at the east end of the small camp, listening to the others bank the fire and settle down. Heard a deal go down in German between Magpie and the Doctor to switch watch places, curiously I turned to watch as Magpie agreed and moved to the southwestern point. Curious I watched him head to his tent – was he so tired from the march? True, he was an older man..

When I heard the mumbled argument though, I understood, he was putting Mumbles to sleep..truely like a child then..How on earth were we supposed to fight in a battle with a doctor who played nursemaid and an incapable-handicapped-insane-person?!

Was he truly so insane, though? I wondered, He had saved my life...twice if you counted unburying me, I shuddered as those squelching noises echoed through my mind again..had it really been this morning? I had seen no sign of his earlier anger towards me however, was it still there? Or had he, in fact, understood what I had said on the train...? I pondered about these things as I took my watch further in the forest, the noises around me wholly alien to my ears.

Crickets, I was familiar with, but the intensity of their noise, the whining of mosquitoes and the loud sawing noises of cicaidas...I wouldn't be able to hear any intruders coming at this rate! Then a wolf howled far into the distance, and suddenly the woods around me seemed quieter. The long mournful song continued, echoing through the night. I had never heard wolves howling before, there was something in me that stirred at the sound, part of me wanting to hide, the other, to join them. I moved after a while, jolting out of my stupor and continuing my patrol to the south western side, until I saw a brief glimpse of Magpie through the trees, then turned and walked the other way. I felt that if I stopped moving I would fall, once more, under the spell of the singing wolves. I moved almost constantly and, between glimpses of Magpie and Clyde, gathered that they were doing the same to keep from sleeping. I had to wake up Magpie twice through those three grueling hours. A tiny chiming noise caught my attention, and a moment later I saw Magpie re-enter the camp adjusting the small silver watch on his arm, and move to wake up Boom, who was resting in the lean-to shelter he had formed with Moose for cover. Their two tent canvases just barely managed to keep them blanketed. I saw Clyde headed to another tent and saw the hooded fireman wiggle out a moment later, letting me know it was up to me to wake up the doctor... _mervielleux_...

Approaching the doctors tent with trepidation, I leaned down and tapped his foot cautiously, and found myself at the business end of a pistol.

"Ahem. It's your watch, _docteur_ " I was pleased I could keep my calm. " _Bonne Nuit_ " I turned and walked to my own shared tent and let myself collapse into the bedroll. Perhaps I was simply too tired to be irritated...I'd leave that for tomorrow.


	9. Interlude: Sparky

The next morning was hell. All of us were in pain from the harsh trek, most unused to either hiking and to carrying so much weight. Sarge had started by insisting that we needed to move as fast as possible, only to have Moose disagree saying we needed to take it slow.

"Sarge, not everyone here was a soldier like us. If we push them, they'll collapse." Added Philips, Clyde agreed.

"SO WE'RE SUPPOSED TO SIT AROUND LIKE A BUNCH OF LADIES AT A TEA CIRCLE! THE ENEMY IS LOOKING FOR US PEOPLE! IF WE DON'T GET A MOVE ON WE WILL BE CAUGHT! AND MIGHT I REMIND YOU THAT BEING CAUGHT DOES NOT END WITH A TIME OUT HERE! THIS IS A WAR BOYS!"

So much for being quiet...

"Sarge..we barrel through and git exhausted how we gonna deal with trouble when it pokes up?" Asked Clyde wryly. That ended the argument. So with much grumbling from the Sarge, we set up a guard further out to give us warning of intruders, and got to picking berries.

It very quickly turned into squabbles and arguments as nearly all of us descended on the berrypatch. Moose was the one who calmly sorted us out – Sarge having piquedly gone to help the guard.

"mi amico," Magpie came up to me during the confusion, "they are disquieted from yesterdays tragedy. Now is the time to watch, to listen and to learn. speak carefully, and see what you can find." At this point he was called away by Moose who was sorting people into different tasks; Clyde, myself and the hooded Pyro – who they had started calling 'Sparky' - were set to work dehydrating most of the berries as the Doctor sewed up small pouches to put them in. Moose went with Rooster to a stream he had scouted out yesterday to fill up our Jerry cans and water carrier with fresh water. Boom stayed near the fire stewing a goodly amount of the berries into a thick soup. Magpie was set with Hawk to crush more of the berries and cook them into fruit leather.

Trying to take Magpie's advice, I sat close to the hooded man, although he had taken off his long leather firemans coat, he still had the hood on – apparently it was detachable.

"'ave you done zis before?" I asked, watching him lay out the berries on a flat stone near the fire. I was copying him slowly, not sure what I was doing. realised this and handed me his mess kit.

"I have not done this since I was a child.." Sparky responded in his usual soft tone. I looked at him, I had not heard him speak since the train incident. He still had his goggles on, but had lowered the respirator from his mouth, revealing a rather flat looking nose, was he also an Indian like Bellows had been? He quickly showed me how to mash the berries into a sludge in both halves of the kit and put it near the fire to cook into cakes. He had lowered his hood now, the heat coming from the fire rather than the sun, situated as we were under the trees.

"Get more kits, we will make more berry cakes." I complied and gathered the tins from Boom who had the cooking supplies near him so he could guard them while he worked.

Clyde watched over the berry cakes as they dried as I pounded more of them into the sticky mess with the handle of my combat knife and slowly filled the impromptu pans.

"Do not let them bake, Mr. Clyde. Other wise they will have moisture within. They will not last as long, so." Clyde complied and set out a blanket for the cakes to dry on once they had hardened in the tins.

"'ow did you learn to do this?" I asked, I wasn't something I expected the fire user to know...it wasn't something I expected anyone to know..well, maybe Hawk, he seemed perfectly comfortable in the wilderness.

"In my home...my old home..we had a raspberry..a patch..next to the house." The smaller man paused, looking down. Nervous or ashamed, I wondered as he continued, " My mother, she taught me. As her mother taught her and her brothers with plums and cherries."

"It runs trough your family zen?" I asked curiously. He nodded, and said no more. Was he ashamed of them? Clyde excused himself and moved to the berry patch where I soon heard him grumbling at the others for eating more than they were giving us to work with. I chuckled at the stammered excuses he received in return.

"Did she teach your siblings of fruit drying as well?" He paused, in middle of carefully turning over the berries on the flat rock, it was his third batch now and they had been coming out well as far as I could tell.

"Yes. My little sister and my little brother. My old brother, Ken. He did not care to learn." The more he spoke to me, the more I encountered that strange cadence to his tone. Not one I was familiar with...was it an accent? Or simply his way of talking?

"I have never done such a thing" I admitted, "It is...enjoyable." To be able to make your own food, to preserve it without having to make it into Jams like an old woman...It was not as infuriating as I had supposed.

He chuckled amused at my lack of berry knowledge, "did you live in a city with no gardens then?"

"I am from Rouen originally." I said, "most French cities were not built with gardens in mind for the regular citoyen. Citizen." I explained the last as he looked at me questioningly after the unfamiliar word.

"Rouen...it is in France, yes?" I looked at him cautiously, but saw no reason not to respond, "Yes, northern France...near Paris." Apparently he knew where that was at least, since he nodded.

"I am glad I have not lost the talent." I looked up at him as he removed the latest batch of dryed berries and put them into the next pouch, "I have not done this since the Relocation Ca-" he stopped abruptly, horrified that he had said so much.

Things became quiet between us for a while until the berry pickers came back, this time with a bunch of berries for us to eat raw for lunch. He avoided my gaze as we reset the camp, but I cornered him as he filled his cup with water from the single jerry can of water that was left in camp.

"Relocation is not a shame in life." He looked at me, obviously startled and I continued, feigning obliviousness "It means we can adapt, non?" I raised an eyebrow in question, and was rewarded with a small snort of laughter from the man.

The stew was burbling happily by the time Moose came back with Rooster holding two pikes the length, and almost size, of my own torso. He was received with cheers and backslaps all around as the Doctor and Magpie cheerfully cut into them and set them up to roast. The smell brought in the others from their guard duties.

We feasted on roasted pike with the berry sauce that night, not one of us was hungry by the end of the meal, and we had enough berries to last for quite a few days if we were careful.

We were sitting around the campfire, quite satisfied with ourselves when Sarge spoke up again.

"Right men, anything to report?" I noticed how his voice had gotten low again now that dusk was settling in, something to keep an eye on.

"well, I wuz thinkin' on wut you sed, Magpie." My Italian counterpart looked up at Roosters words. "Moose n' I noticed that da crows caw in sets, right? Like, there'll be a bunch together in a string, n' hardly a break. Well, someone who don't know that'll hardly tell'a difference. We figure if we use caws in different orders, with breaks and all? That we can talk long distance!"

Nods followed his words. He lined it out easily enough. One cawing was a message, followed by one was 'stop', two was 'Stop! Hide', three was 'Danger! Enemy Incoming', there was one for 'small enemy' maybe to ambush he explained, others were 'Help', 'water source', 'Help! Found something useful'. I stopped paying attention after a while, although others put in their opinions and thoughts on the matter, after a while I grew bored, and was simply looking forward to sleeping again.

"Right!" Sarge's bark cut through the chatter, "Anything else? No? Good! Tomorrow we're marching, so pack it in, and sleep fast. Meatballs, Sparky and Boom. You're first watch. First from last night is dawn watch."

Sighing with relief I went to my tent, and slept.


End file.
